Before we crossed the border, our knowledge of Albania was pretty hazy – cycling blogs suggested that we would spend our time being chased by aggressive sheepdogs or hurtling down motorways filled with reckless drivers. However, after our first day we had encountered neither of these terrors and instead found ourselves in Shkoder, a wonderfully exuberant city with a somewhat chaotic approach to traffic control. As we cycled in, we passed an eclectic mix of cyclists: old men carrying bunches of spring onions, mothers with their children sitting on their laps, and people simply cycling in whichever direction pleased them, irrespective of the flow of traffic.
We found it rather liberating to just strike out into the road and hope for the best. We stayed with another generous Warmshowers host, Mikel, at the beautiful Green Garden Hostel. This lovely oasis of calm was the perfect base to explore the city.
However, as we carried on, we began to realise that the experience we wanted to have in Albania was going to be difficult to achieve. The limited road network meant that we were spending days hugging the hard shoulder of motorways (see deeply unflattering photo below) and not getting to appreciate the beauty of the areas through which we were passing.
After scouring a map for smaller roads which did not materialise, we noticed just how near to the heel of Italy we were. After a quick google search revealed regular ferries between the two countries, a plan started to develop - instead of cycling hundreds of kilometres on the hard shoulder of an Albanian motorway we could cycle on the other side of the Adriatic on the smaller roads of Puglia. After a difficult day, during which we cycled 120km in the stinging rain, gritting our teeth as lorries thundered past inches away from our panniers, our minds were made up and we caught a ferry across the Adriatic to Bari.
Our week in Puglia was heavenly, and reminded us how lucky we are to be cycle touring. From Bari, we cycled 450 km around the heel of Italy, visiting the beehive-shaped trulli houses of Alberobello, the beautiful white city of Ostuni, and Lecce, ‘the Florence of the South’. The coast road was one of the loveliest we have cycled so far, with craggy cliffs, endless olive groves and an incredible array of wild flowers everywhere we turned.
Most nights, we managed to wild camp by the sea, hidden in the sand dunes. However, one evening we realised that our beautiful beach was not as secret as we thought- in fact it was Puglia’s prime dogging spot (see photo below). Luckily, our fellow guests seemed to realise that bicycles are not conducive to romantic liaisons and left us in peace.
We loved every minute we spent in Puglia and passed many happy hours plotting our new lives in one of the many ruined villas we saw for sale by the side of the road. Refreshed and revived, we finally reached Brindisi. from where we caught the ferry back across the Adriatic Sea. After a rather sleepless night curled up next to the slot machines on the ferry, we reached the final stage of the first part of our trip: Greece.